Drabbles By The Firelight
by dulce.de.leche.go
Summary: A collection of miscellaneous drabbles(ish) housed within the Harry Potter universe (sort of). Each chapter entry is a standalone drabble and some may contain a modern AU or other alternate setting but will primarily focus on characters from the HP-verse. Various pairings and ratings dependent on the individual chapter/drabble.
1. Mothering Sunday (Draco-Hermione)

**Pairing: **Draco x Hermione

**Rating: **K

_"Are you the sweet invention of a lover's dream_  
><em> Or are you really as wonderful as you seem?"<em>

_- "Do I Love You Because You're Beautiful?" Rodgers and Hammerstein's Cinderella  
><em>

* * *

><p>Hermione rolled around in bed, turning her back to the bedroom door and yanking a pillow from across the mattress to use as another layer to block out the sun.<p>

She was up, she'd been up for a while, though she refused to budge from the warm shelter of fluffy down and flannel sheets. She was utterly exhausted; this was the most obnoxious one to date.

Just as she was starting to nod off again, she heard the excited patter of feet slapping across the wood floors of the hall, followed by a familiar masculine shout and much louder, heavier footfalls. She smirked to herself, wiped out as she was, knowing that any second it would happen.

_Knock knock knock! _Then, _**BAM!**_

The bedroom door swung open immediately after the last knock – at least he was doing as he was told, 'knock before you enter'.

"Mum! Mummy! Mummy! Mum mum mum muuuuuuum-"

She exhaled heavily but smiled anyway, rolling over just in time to see her oldest struggling to pull himself up onto the top of the bed. Hermione reached a hand out to help him but he swatted it away with the most intense look of concentration on his face that reminded her of the scowls her husband would send her on occasion.

"Scorpius-"

"Mummy!" The little blonde boy interrupted loudly, finally making it onto the bed to crawl excitedly over. He slowed down to a very, overly controlled pace as he neared her belly, his grey eyes huge and focused on her rounded stomach.

"_Scorpius_," started again, watching her son reach out to pat her much-more-than-a-bump, bump, "where's the fire, little love?"

He blinked a few times, looking up at her strangely before a huge grin broke out onto his face and he seemed to recall why he'd come bounding into the room. "It's Mummy's day!"

"_SCORPIUS_!"

Hermione arched a brow as Draco appeared in the doorway, covered in what appeared to be flour and...other food items with their – thankfully _clean_ – tiny daughter cradled in one arm. She blinked over at her boy who had the decency to at least start to look ashamed before trying the huge puppy eye tactic; Draco had invented that one – it was part of the reason they were in this situation in the first place – he was immune.

She, however, not so much; _obviously_.

"Thank you," she said, slumping back into the pillows on her side, but not before scooping her little man to her for a cuddle. "Were you helping Daddy in the kitchen?"

Draco snorted, came in, and settled himself on the edge of the bed, setting Cassie down as well to let her wriggle her way to her mum as they both appeared to enjoy. "_Helping_ is subjective."

Hermione chuckled and watched as Scorpius tried to herd his sister in a more favorable way towards her head, reaching over and running a hand through his rowdy white blonde hair in adoration.

"It _was_ supposed to be a breakfast in bed sort of a thing...a surprise wake up call if you will." He stretched out in his space, reaching a foot out to run affectionately along the outline of hers overtop the sheets. "Someone got excited though."

"Just as well, you're a horrible cook."

"Am not!"

"You are," she said sweetly, smiled as she corralled her children against her side, head pillowed on one arm, lids feeling so very heavy.

She was already falling back asleep as she felt Draco's hand link with hers from across the pillows, felt him adjust the covers and heard him mumble something to their son.

Before she conked out entirely, Draco leaned over to whisper a "_Happy Mothering Sunday"_ against her temple and placed a soft kiss on her hugely satisfied smile as she was lulled back to sleep by the warmth of her family in their bed.


	2. Yule (Draco-Hermione)

**Pairing: **Draco x Hermione

**Rating: **K

* * *

><p>"<em>1...2...3...1...2...3...1..2-"<em>

_"_So _serious_."

Hermione yelped and whipped around to face the intruder leaning against the empty classroom's doorway. Her mouth turned down in a frown. "I've still got the room booked for the next 20 minutes, Malfoy."

"I know," he said casually, pushed off from the door frame and entered anyway.

Her frown turned into a scowl. "I _said-_"

"I heard what you said, Granger," he said, waving her off and crossing to her spot near the phonograph. He gave her a long look, trying to think about if he'd ever seen her so 'out of uniform'; she still wore her skirt and leggings, those same, tired looking shoes, but she only had the untucked blouse, sleeves rolled to her elbows, and tie, loosened halfway down her chest, for her upper half.

No, no, he was fairly certain he'd never seen her so 'unkempt'.

"Then what are you doing?" The frown was back and she folded her arms in anticipation of his answer.

Draco waved his wand at the record player and the ridiculous ballroom music started. "Fixing this abysmal thing you call _dancing_."

She huffed, "What? _Please_, I've been practicing these steps since day ONE! They're practically _perfect._"

He scoffed and stepped up to her, hand out, waiting. When she just stared at it like he was growing boils, he cleared his throat to catch her attention. "Well?"

She raised a fine eyebrow. "You're not serious."

"I'm as serious as that face you were making when I found you."

Hermione rolled her eyes but placed her hand in his_. "FINE."_

Draco smirked and brought her fingers to his lips, delighting in the light flush to her cheeks before taking up the proper position and falling into step easily. He watched her face as they moved, her lips mainly, grinning when he saw that she was staring at their feet and mouthing out the steps. "Stop counting," he scolded her with humour lacing the words.

Her head popped up, another blush staining her skin while her hands braced on his shoulders and he lifted her in a twirl. "You're _distracting_ me-"

"You do know you'll be dancing _with_ someone, right? The possibility that they may be distracting is...quite likely." He eyed her as they waltzed, her gaze no longer stuck on their feet but somewhere off to his side. "And...which bloke happens to have the unfortunate task of accompanying you to the ball?" he asked breezily.

She allowed a tiny smirk to tilt her lips, still looking off to a spot over his left shoulder. "Who are you taking?"

"I asked you first."

She looked at him finally, noting he seemed decidedly..._worried._ Hermione faltered in their dance just slightly and looked away again, muttered something.

His grey eyes went round. "_WHO?"_

"Viktor Krum," she mumbled again.

Draco stopped suddenly in their steps, catching her when she stumbled into him. "Hermione! You were supposed to take the Weasel!"

She shot him a look at his whine. "I _tried._ He didn't ask...well, he did, but as a last resort. It was getting too close to deadline, so I said yes to Krum. I don't see why it matters-"

"Don't see why-" He flung his arms up and huffed, pouting. "I can't very well punch _Viktor Krum_ after it's all said and done."

"I TOLD you, you're not punching anyone!"

"But-!"

"No!" she said, waving a finger at him harshly. The man folded his arms and harrumphed, scowling at the dance floor. Hermione sighed and stepped into his space, one hand on his shoulder and the other brushing fringe out of his eyes. "It's all just to keep up appearances Draco...we'll still have the after party." She smirked and saw his trying to emerge, felt his hands settle at her waist again. "So, who did you end up asking anyway?"

"Pansy."

"I'll kill her!"

Draco laughed when she tried to escape his hold and tugged her back for another twirl, this one much less graceful than before. "They're 'just appearances' remember?"

"Oh sod off."

He snorted and brought her back in time with the music, moving fluidly with her through the steps until the piece came to its end and then he lingered, hands still resting at her waist. He smiled down at her and her light scowl until it finally dissolved the rest of the way and she'd forgotten what she was upset about. Draco swept in, dipping his head down to press a short, but sweet kiss to her lips, smoothing her hair away from her face and rubbing a light circle over her cheek. "Just a bit longer."

Hermione sighed against his mouth, nodded, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, rocking back and forth between her feet in something that vaguely resembled a slow dance. With her cheek cushioned on his chest, she nodded again and agreed, "Just a bit longer.


	3. Unlimited (Draco-Hermione)

**Pairing: **Draco x Hermione

**Rating: **K

_**A/N: **_For **Colubrina **and** LadiePhoenix007 **...because you know why.

* * *

><p>"Draco!"<p>

"NO."

"I didn't even say anything but your name!"

"But after that, you were going to ask me to come out, to which my answer remains 'NO'."

Hermione snorted and knocked on the bedroom door again, smudging the wood with some of the green paint on her knuckles. She huffed, waved her wand at the door to clean it up and cast a few other spells on her skin to help keep the color in place - she'd opted for makeup and a few spells versus actually magicking her skin green after what happened the last time; it wasn't difficult explaining to Kingsley why she was green for a week while she practiced, it was just humiliating as hell.

"Draco, baby, come on out. You promised."

"I don't care. And don't _baby_ me! This wasn't part of the deal!"

She sighed heavily and muttered an unlocking charm finally, peeking into the bedroom and seeing her husband staring at his reflection in the vanity. She couldn't help it, immediately bursting into laughter - actually "guffaw" was probably a better word to describe the noises hiccuping out of her.

Draco sneered at his reflection before whirling around and fixing her with a firm glare that was somewhat diffused by his pretty, sparkly ball gown with its multiple tiers of satins and netting, all saturated with an obnoxious amount of patterned glitter and sequins. His bodice was straining at his still rather impressive physique but it too was tempered by the sheer, off the shoulder, puff sleeves that stretched tight across his biceps.

"NO."

She struggled to stifle her laughter, making multiple attempts to stop snorting and giggling until she finally was able to tame the grin that kept trying to surface. Hermione approached him carefully, watching his shoulders bunch as she neared and she put her hands up as non-threateningly as possible.

"Draco, you promised you'd go with me to the party as a couple."

His sneer lessened, but _just _barely. "I was fully intending to be wearing trousers to fulfill my obligation."

She smirked. "It's not my fault you didn't familiarize yourself with the material before you agreed. Everyone who's anyone knows that the partner to Elphaba is Galinda and that was obviously who I was referring to. Our deal stands."

He scowled.

Her smile broadened cheekily.

They stood like that for some time before Draco finally let out a gruff sounding sigh. "You're lucky that I love you."

"I love you too," she beamed and moved in to give him a kiss, faltering when he stopped her with his hands on her wrists.

"You'll ruin the satin, love. Can't get it all green and whatnot." He smirked at her dumbfounded look and gave her the barest peck on the nose before snatching up his wand and making his way from the room in a confident swagger, dusting glitter across their carpet as he moved. "Meet you downstairs."

Hermione blinked at his back, looked at her hands, and saw that her spells still weren't keeping the makeup from smudging. She pouted when she realized he was very likely to continue punishing her with a lack of contact all night.

"Draco! Draco, that's not fair!"

The response she received was just a sweet falsetto singing out from down the hall.

"_Unlimited~~..."_


	4. Ginger (Draco-Hermione)

**Pairing:** Draco x Hermione

**Rating: **K

* * *

><p>"I despise you."<p>

Draco Malfoy's mortal enemy glared back at him from across the rather quaint dining room table.

"She said I had to be nice to you, you know. I think both you and I know that's not really in the cards."

The ginger's eyes narrowed in a tense kind of agreement, though he still said nothing in response.

Despite the constant mocking from the wizard, the intelligence of his enemy was easily seen within those hard staring eyes. Draco moved a plate of meager foodstuffs forward, a peace offering of sorts, as the man had never seen him _not_ ready and willing to shovel food into his maw. "I propose a deal."

His head tilted, the glare lessening only mildly, his gaze flicking between the plate then back to the man in a skeptical manner.

"She would be very upset if we don't get on well with one another. I don't like you and you don't like me, but the one thing I believe we can agree on is we both want to keep her happy. Correct?"

Those eyes narrowed further into impossibly tight slits and his head bobbed only slightly in the faintest idea of a nod.

"Right then, so here's the deal: when we're both here, stuck like we are, alone with one another, whatever the reason may be, we leave each other be. I won't fuck with you and you won't with me. When she's home, we pretend to get along to keep her satisfied." The redhead started to open his mouth and Draco held up a hand. "Just when she's looking, just when she's in the room. It's only temporary in any case. I'll be working again soon and we won't have to entertain each other's company most days anyway. Hell, you'll have run of the house even, but when we're all home together, we're one big, bloody happy family. Deal?"

"_Draco? Draco, where are you?"_

The two of them jolted upright at the sound of Hermione's voice carrying from the foyer to the dining room.

"Here. In here," he called out loudly and clearly so she could follow the sound of his voice. Draco eyed his foe once more, silently urging him to make his decision before the witch entered the room.

Hermione appeared in the doorway to the dining room, head peering cautiously around the corner and relaxing instantly when she saw the pair of them. She sighed, relieved, and hefted the few bags of takeaway into view and onto the table.

Draco watched her, resisting the urge to help, knowing it would just get him yelled at, as usual, if he tried. "I was starting to worry."

She scoffed at that, finished setting everything out then turned to them again. This time, Hermione leaned in, giving her husband a loving peck on the lips, and reached down to stroke the outrageously fluffy head of Crookshanks who was currently sitting looking utterly relaxed in his lap. "I was more worried about the two of you having it out in the twenty minutes it takes to run down to the corner and back." With a few more doting pets, she hummed, "Were you good for Draco while I was away, Crooks?"

The old cat punctuated his loud, almost overdramatic, purring with an equally loud, happy meow from the perch of Draco's lap.

"A perfect gentleman," Draco said and smirked charmingly; he even gave the cat a few stiff pets which neither of them seemed to enjoy.

"Oh good," she said, missing the sneering expression on them both, "I'm glad you two seem to have finally managed to get your acts together." Hermione turned away then. "I'll be right back with some plates and things and we can finally have dinner without a ruckus."

Draco and Crookshanks watched her depart, forced pleasant looks on both of their faces until she was well out of eye and earshot. The cat quickly launched himself off of Draco's legs, sure to dig all four sets of claws into them as he pushed off. Draco barely contained the pained noise at the punctures and failed entirely at keeping the venomous snarl about 'Merlin-damned squashy faced cats' silent.

"What was that?" Hermione reappeared with plates, forks, and napkins in hand, going about setting their places immediately.

Draco was allowed to help with this much, he knew, and so he did. In the midst of the mundane task, he caught that amber eyed stare again, glaring at him from around the edge of the doorway, and he glared back.

"Nothing, love, nothing at all."


	5. Muggle Studies (Draco-Hermione)

**Pairing: **Draco x Hermione

**Rating: **M (non-explicit sexual references)

* * *

><p>Once upon a time, if anyone were to ask Draco Malfoy if he'd ever sat through a Muggle Studies course, he'd have hexed them clear into next Tuesday at that absurd notion. That was a long time ago, however; before the war, before his pardon, before his re-admittance into Hogwarts under very strict guidelines of the courses he would take towards satisfying terms of his rehabilitation. He got to keep advanced potions and had more than a handful of accelerated classes dumped onto his plate to work on in his do-over year. Most of them, while taxing, were very doable and without <em>other<em> distractions clouding his mind, he was able to put forth all of his efforts into his studies.

Well..._most_ of his efforts anyway.

Draco sat in a chair in his private dormitory – a cell really as not even any of the Slytherins cared to room with a former Death Eater – eying his girlfriend intensely where she was sitting on his bed. She looked at him in return, calm and expectant, her bushy brown hair tousled and her figure looking absolutely delectable in only her bra, knickers, and uniform skirt.

Once upon a time, if anyone were to ask Draco Malfoy if he'd ever date a Muggle or a Muggle-born witch, he'd also have hexed them into oblivion. That too, Draco thought to himself thankfully as he answered another question and she removed her skirt, was a very long time ago.

Ten questions.

Ten pieces of clothing, though only because she insisted that each sock count as "one".

Hermione finished wriggling out of her skirt and tossed it into the pile with the rest of her things. "Very good, Draco."

"Why the tone of surprise?" he snarked, though his eyes were very firmly fixed on their course of trailing over her body.

As he guessed The Ministry expected, Muggle Studies was his absolute worst subject, due to his utter lack of exposure to everything Muggle growing up; it was also his most mandatory of mandatory classes and one that he _had_ to pass with superior marks if he were to be released into the adult wizarding world.

Enter Hermione Granger.

Their budding relationship had been a rocky thing and a blur all at once, but without the other parts of the terrible trio present, she'd actually allowed him to try and make amends. While it's not what he set out for originally, he was happy now, happier than he'd ever been with this brilliant witch who had very much come into her age, sitting across from him and helping him study on a subject that she knew of most intimately.

"Because I don't believe you've been doing the reading I've assigned at all," she hummed and leaned her weight back on the heels of her hands. She gave him a very good view of her matching underthings, a racy black lace set she'd worn with particular purpose that day.

"Please," he said dismissively then gestured to her with his head, "I've _clearly_ been doing the reading."

He hadn't. Not really. He'd just been memorizing a few key things here and there and _definitely_ been committing the questions she'd been asking and their respective answers to memory ever since they started these unique study sessions. For such a smart witch, she didn't change up the material that much; it ensured that he would definitely get them all right today.

"Alright." Hermione shrugged and sat forward again, reaching around her back to the clasp of her bra. She barely contained the devious smirk that fought to quirk her lips at the sight of him leaning forward, even licking his lips as stealthily as he could manage. "Describe the three main parts of a Muggle telephone and their primary functions."

Draco haughtily opened his mouth to answer, paused a moment, then said, "What?"

She arched a brow. "I said, describe the three main parts of a Muggle telephone and their primary functions."

"Wh-a Muggle telephone? You haven't asked that question before!" he sputtered, "Th-that's pulling from old third year studies! You've been asking-"

"I've been asking questions that are likely to be on your exam," she said patiently, "this is, after all, an exit exam. You'll be tested on all the knowledge you've accumulated up to this point." At the still bewildered look on her boyfriend's face, she added, "Also, I advised you to look at those chapters after our last session."

Draco was red faced and pale all at once; she'd obviously caught him right in the midst of his lie and, while she didn't seem the least bit perturbed by it, it was still embarrassing and terrifying all the same.

"Well?"

"Ah..ah..I…"

"Come on, Malfoy, you know this," she said encouragingly, even going so far as to unclasp the hooks on her bra and show him that she was only holding the garment in place now.

He swallowed thickly. "A…a Muggle telephone," he stuttered, buying himself time before she decided to throw an old sack over herself at the truly lost cause he was, "has three main parts. The first…i-is…the…the keypad?"

He didn't mean to make it a question.

"Yes! And its function?"

Bolstered by his partial success, his brow furrowed, tongue trailing over the backs of his teeth as he thought. "To dial the numbers…to 'call' other Muggles."

"Yes! Very good! What else?"

"Uh..transmitter?" he asked and brightened again when she smiled at him, "That's the bit that you talk into! It carries whatever you say with it to the other end."

Hermione shrugged out of the straps and held the cups over her breasts, beaming proudly at him. "Right! One more, love, you've got it!"

He chewed on his tongue, shifting uncomfortably as his trousers became more and more constricting where she'd stuck him to the chair – the only way to keep him from ending their sessions prematurely, as it were. Draco was having an awful time thinking with her nearly bared to him. She'd put the halt on any extracurricular activities while they prepared for exams and she'd only started this as an extra incentive for him to get through his worst subject. It worked for the most part, but he still struggled. Muggle Studies was particularly boring and he'd much rather be studying his Muggle-born girlfriend instead of some dry old text, especially when he thought about how soft he knew those breasts were. How they fit just perfectly into his palms. How the nipples perked adorably when he bit here or licked there or when he—

"Draco?"

He swallowed audibly, attention trying to come back to the present. "Ah..the third…number three," he babbled and wracked his brain, trying to get the images of her arching under him, crying out his name, out of his head, "the third piece..."

Hermione watched him, his concentration rapidly fizzling out. She sighed and started putting her bra back on. "Tomorrow then."

"What?" his head shot up, eyes huge and frantic, "No! No no no! The third, the third, it's…the ear…piece…thing. The ear-…mitter!" At her look he tried again. "Ear-ceiver! The listening bit!"

She was fastening the clasps now. "Receiver, Draco."

"That's what I said!" he moaned in dismay when she bent over the bed to fetch her other clothes and he saw her knickers were much, much tinier in the back than he'd initially thought. He nearly cried when she started pulling everything back on. "Ohhh, no, don't do that, Hermione! Come on! Don't I get half credit?"

Hermione slid back into her skirt and was fastening her blouse with the rest of her clothes draped over an arm when she padded over to his spot where he was anchored to the chair. She watched the wizard pouting like someone had just taken away his favorite broom and leaned in to place a kiss on his cheek. She paused at his ear and whispered, "Study and we'll try again tomorrow night. Chapters one through four." Another kiss and, "I'll wear the red ones you like so much."

His lids fluttered shut when she ran her hand teasingly over his lap and he groaned when, just as quickly, she was gone.

Draco checked the clock; the sticking charm fastening his rear and hands to his seat would dissolve soon enough.

Until then…

He grunted with a great deal of effort, wriggling this way and that, hefting his weight in jumpy jerks to reach his bed where she'd left his book, chair and all. Draco nudged the cover open, wrestling the pages with his chin and cheek and began to read.

"Chapter One: Electricity…"


	6. Sick Day (Draco-Hermione)

**Pairing: **Draco x Hermione

**Rating: **M (non-explicit sexual references)

* * *

><p>"Out. Get. Out."<p>

"No."

"Grang'r," he growled, the stuffiness of his nose obvious, "_out_."

Hermione sighed and placed the tray of tea and soup on the bedside table he was grousing in the general direction of. "No," she said again, hands on hips, "you need to eat something."

"Go'way."

"Draco-" She placed a hand on his shoulder only to have him grunt and roll over to give her his back. "Sweetheart-"

"Gon'ges szick if…don' le'me 'lone," he grumped, dropping syllables sluggishly in that nasally tone and tugged the blankets up to his chin.

"Draco, we're sleeping in the same room – the same _bed_ – I'm already going to get sick, so stop being a baby, sit up, and eat your damn soup until then."

"…m'not a baby," he pouted.

Hermione rolled her eyes.

Draco Malfoy, like many magical people, did not seem to get sick nearly as often or as easily as the common Muggle, though when the illnesses struck they had a tendency to linger.

Draco Malfoy was also an extremely fussy little ninny when he was sick.

Making up her mind, the witch smacked him on his blanket covered bum and received another grouchy noise for the move. She did it a few more times until he finally grumbled a string of nasally curses but scooted towards the center of the bed and she crawled in behind him, draping a hand over his waist.

The second her cheek pressed against the back of his neck, she frowned. "You're burning up!" He grunted in response but she noticed he snuggled back into her. "Have you even _taken_ your potions today?"

He shrugged and made a disgruntled stuffy-nosed noise. "Tastes like shite..."

"Draco," she snapped, "you're never going to get better if you don't take them!"

Another ornery noise before he burrowed his face into the pillow, drowning out her nagging with disgruntled murmurs.

"How can you know they don't work if you're not taking them?"

_Grunt._

"Well they'll keep you from acting like such a-uh—a-a bump on a log!" She'd heard someone say that once, wasn't entirely sure of the meaning, but really, who liked bumps on things?

"…m'not a bump," he huffed.

The 'b' and 'p' both popped in a bit of an exhausted and clearly pouting splutter. They had a wet sound to them that made her quite sure he was lying in a puddle of his own drool by this point. She could almost hear his brow furrowing to go with his jutting lip.

"_Draco_."

He mumbled something else that sounded more like a moan of _"they're gross" _and she snorted. Hermione began stroking a hand along his arm and curled around him, tucking her legs up against the backs of his. _Big baby._

It was silent a long while, then, "Granger…"

"Mmm?"

"..'re you…spooning me?"

He was still stuffy but she could hear the smile in it. She smirked. "Maybe."

"…not v'ry good at it.."

"Oh, excuse me," she said and reached over him for one of their bolster pillows that he _still_ never took off the bed before getting in. Hermione tucked the thing between her thighs, pinching the cushion so it bulged awkwardly from her legs to nestle in an uncomfortable line between his butt cheeks; an experience similar to one she so often woke to. "Better? Or do you need me to start tweaking your nipples and licking your ear while I rumble about your pretty knickers as well for full immersion?"

Sudden and loud, a laugh rattled out of him, making his chest and shoulders shake until he started coughing, hacked up something particularly phlegmy only to swallow it back down with a sickening gulp.

Hermione gagged on reflex.

He laughed again.

It took threats of an _imperius_, hosing him down with disinfectant, and her mockingly humping his rear and honking his pectorals before he finally rolled back over so she could give him his potions – she was of the opinion it was the fondling of his chest with the inclusion of her avid sound effects that did him in. She lulled him to sleep afterwards with soothing circles on his back, rubbing until he was breathing deeply and continuously prodding him into better positions to keep him from making that godawful snoring noise like someone was murdering an elk. It took some time but he was finally good and medicated and out.

Now, if she could just get him to eat when he came out of it, she could call day one of "Operation: Peaked Princess" complete.


	7. The Beast (Draco-Hermione)

**Pairing: **Draco x Hermione

**Rating: **K

**A/N:** I feel like I should dedicate this to **Colubrina**...though I'm not entirely sure why. It seems...right.

* * *

><p>The flames of the Manor's grand fireplace roared ferociously. Lucius paced a short line, stopped abruptly, turned then paced back; he did this another time, then another, eyes fixated on the creature sprawled on the expensive rug nearby. His wife watched, sipping her tea stoically, years of practice making it easy to school the satisfaction, the twisted sense of amusement she was drawing from the scene before her.<p>

"I understand you think you belong only to my son," Lucius drawled coolly, hands clasped behind his back, wand tapping at his thigh. "You think this, but fact of the matter is…you are just as much mine as you are his."

It loosed a curious sounding noise that brought a sly smirk to Narcissa's lips.

The wizard smirked in that way too – that signature Malfoy way – at the big brown eyes staring hugely at him. "Yes…it's alright," he cooed silkily. "You can even ask him if you'd like, he will tell you the very same, you're mine. And that is precisely why – _precisely why_ – you will do just as I've said. Do you understand?"

A sound of acceptance, _eager_ acceptance.

The clock on the mantel began to chime the late hour. Narcissa cross referenced the time with an emerald studded pocket watch before rising from her seat to wait near her husband at the fireplace. "He'll be arriving soon, Lucius."

Her husband's smirk widened into a wide, wicked smile, eyes still set at the rug before him. "Magnificent," he remarked to himself, then to his brown eyed treasure, "Be ready."

Narcissa took another final sip of her tea and placed the cup and saucer on the mantelshelf, drawing her own wand from a smoothly tailored rigging along the back of her skirt. She silently counted along with the chimes down to the hour.

_Six…_

_..seven.._

…_eight…_

…_nine.._

…_TEN._

The orange flames flared to life, taking on a sudden shocking shade of green and licking the sides of the firebox in a flurry of action. Two shapes formed from the fire, one tall, lean, and masculine, the other short, dainty, and currently full of feminine curve. They barely had a moment to manifest in the Manor's great study before Narcissa, quick as a whip, snatched a hand out to pull the woman to her, the girl letting out a surprised yelp when her grip came free of the other's and she stumbled into her slender frame.

As soon as she was clear, Lucius hissed out a gleeful, "_INCARCEROUS!_" Magical ropes shot out of his wand and latched onto and around the long legs clad in terribly expensive looking trousers.

Draco's arms windmilled to try and keep his balance even as he fell in the most ungraceful of ways, sputtering. "What the—_FATHER!_"

Lucius let out a triumphant hiss of "_NOW! GO! DO IT NOW!"_ and turned his wand once again on his son to assist the little beast scuttling forward, burbling with excitement.

"RRRAAAAAAAAWWWWWR!" The tiny boy trundled as though he were not a little, but a _great_ beast, stumbling more over his own chubby feet than anything else, as he flopped onto the back of his father. The blonde toddler took handfuls of Draco's hair and roared again like the huge dragon he was not, bouncing some to add a bit of flare to his performance.

Hermione blinked, wide eyed from her spot in Narcissa's arms, the older witch sheathing her wand again once she was sure the boys' rough housing was safe enough for her – once again expecting – daughter-in-law. "Oh, Narcissa," Hermione sighed past the grin that was threatening an appearance, "I wish he wouldn't get Scorpius so excited this late. He should be in bed already."

Narcissa nodded and sighed as well, her own smirk plain as the nose on her face. "I know, dear. The stubbornness runs in the male side of things though. To-" She paused, looking at her husband, crouched and shooting harmless green sparks from his wand at Draco's head, adding to their little dragon's display. A finely sculpted eyebrow traveled a slow, tortuous path up her wrinkleless forehead. "-dissuade them of such exploits…that would be a chore in and of itself, I assure you."

Draco was gnashing his teeth harmlessly at their wee little one, growling about how only one dragon could "roost in this nest" – which Hermione was almost positive wasn't what he thought it meant – while Lucius continued sending sparks all over the both of them, now pretending to be the King Beast himself. Hermione couldn't help it and the grin finally did surface, spreading from ear to ear as she watched them play.

Narcissa covered one of Hermione's hands where it'd found a perch on her round belly and coaxed the girl along with her. "Come Hermione, tell me about the reunion over tea. They're bound to—" She was interrupted by a louder ruckus.

"_Raaaaaaawwwwr!"_

"_Father, what have you done?!"_

"_Foolish boy! You should have known better than to leave him to me! He will never return to yo—oh! Vile creature, don't you turn on me now, too!"_

"_Raaaaaaaaawr!"_

"_Ha! Take THAT, father! Good man, Scorpius. Daddy's very proud!"_

"_Raaaa—ah! Grandpa, my-" Grunt. "-my foot. Stuck."_

"_Here, love, just a moment—now—turn to the—yes, there you are. All better."_

_"Scorp, what do you say?"_

_"Tanks Grandpa."_

_"You're welcome."_

"_RAAAAAAAAAAWR!"_

"_You fiend!"_

Narcissa blinked a long, slow blink and turned Hermione back in the direction of the tea room. "Come, dear. The reunion."


	8. Rain (Voldemort-Hermione)

**Pairing: **Voldemort x Hermione

**Rating: **T

_**A/N:** For **chiseplushie** from drabble prompt #__21 – "We're in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?" on Tumblr._

* * *

><p>Hermione hadn't known she was physically capable of the amount of contempt thrumming through her veins in that moment.<p>

Contempt, she would add, for this outrageous, frustrating, enigma of a not-quite-human-anymore pillock who she was miraculously fond of even as he twirled beneath the stars, arms outstretched and head knocked back as though he were bloody sodding Maria.

_"__Hermione,"_ his voice rasped loud enough to be heard over the torrential downpour, _"come out from beneath that tree, this is __**brilliant!**__"_

Her eyes narrowed as she peered from beneath her mass of matted curls and chanced an extra-long glance at the sky before tucking back into the shelter of a large branch. A jarring peal of thunder vibrated through the air and only then did she inch away from the old oak. "We're in the middle of a _thunderstorm_ and you wanna stop and feel the rain? Perhaps the naysayers were right and it _was_ a mistake to bring you back after all," Hermione snarked and her teeth began to chatter.

Voldemort ignored her acerbic commentary and opened his mouth to extend an exceptionally long and reptilian tongue for which to catch raindrops – or really entire mouth full of rain at this point – on. His cheeks filled to the brim with rainwater and he spat it all back out in fountain spray of spittle, letting out a loud and overly satisfied noise of contentment with the action. "There are just some things you _miss_ when you lack a corporeal form—"

"Or are forced to take on the likeness of a grotesque little fetus thing?"

"—that too." Voldemort sighed and at least ceased his twirling to simply stand and revel in the feel of the water washing over him.

Despite her annoyance at him, at the draining magical ritual, at the most inopportune invoking of Mother Nature's wrath for bending and breaking the natural flow of life and death into something of a trivial plaything, Hermione enjoyed watching him there. He may not have been entirely whole and he may not have been entirely as sane as the boy that had wriggled his way into her life through an enchanted diary, but he was hers.

Hermione let him bask in being able to _feel_ again for several more long moments before she finally asked, "Would you at least like some clothing?"

And without hesitation, Voldemort replied, "No. I want it everywhere."

She sighed heavily then, muttering to herself, _"…at least I brought him back with his bits, I suppose…"_


	9. The Mission (Draco-Hermione)

**Pairing:** Draco x Hermione

**Rating:** T

_**A/N:** For **yourpainandpleasure** from drabble prompt #18 – "This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you've ever had. Of course I'm in." on Tumblr._

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><p>"Granger," Draco called impatiently from the living room. He heard what he could only assume was irate muttering from beyond her closed bedroom door and chose to occupy himself by shuffling around the small flat, examining all the curious doodads lining the numerous bookshelves. Several more muffled thumps and an angry sounding sliding and slamming of drawers later, Draco let out another exasperated huff. "<em>GRANGER!<em> Are you ready yet?"

The bedroom door flew open at his question and a partially dressed Hermione Granger came stomping out, seemingly for the sole purpose of expressing the extent of her displeasure at his current existence. The petite witch strode right up to him in a slinky black number that was only halfway zipped. The dress draped and clung to her shoulders and the curve of her bosom in a fascinating and, what Draco was certain, _almost_ _illegal _fashion as she brandished a pointy toed pump for which to roughly prod him with.

"You show up here—" _Prod. "—_at _my_ flat—" _Poke. "—_on what _WAS _my day off—" **_JAB._** "—with this ridiculous, nonsensical, and completely **_preposterous_** idea of intercepting the package at a Muggle gala, telling me to be ready in fifteen and to – and I **_quote_** – _'look sharp, Granger'_ – with NO regard as to how much effort exactly is required for such a task and you have the **_NERVE_** to ask _'are you ready yet?'"_

Draco's chest hurt from the half dozen or so well aimed stabs with her heel and he assumed she was saying—_yelling—_something pertinent in his general direction, but he found himself far too distracted to tell for sure. The fluid shimmer of silk clinging to the smooth skin of her breasts, the way the fabric flowed and dipped and drooped ever so tauntingly with every angry, animated gesticulation, it was a hypnotic swirling loop in his immediate vision and his brain was stuck on the very important observation that this was not at ALL like anything he'd ever seen her sport at Ministry functions.

When she noticed the somewhat absent expression housed in the glossy grey eyes goggling at her chest, Hermione gave him a good scowl, plucked the ceramic giraffe he'd been fiddling with from his fingers to set it back on the shelf, and proceeded to give him an even angrier stab with the pointiest bit of her shoe. "Malfoy. Are you even listening to me? Eyes up. **_MALFOY!_**"

She snapped her fingers so loudly, he was positive the sound would be ringing in his ears for days. Shaking himself out of his stupor, Draco replayed the last several seconds of her shouting back in his head. Crossing his arms over his chest in as dignified a manner as he could, he muttered, "I simply thought that, of everyone in the department, _you_ would be the one to want to bring it in. What with you being my bloody partner and all. No one is _forcing_ you to be in on this one, Granger." He said the last with a tart tinge of bitterness.

Hermione scoffed. "This is, without a doubt, the stupidest plan you've ever had. Of _course_ I'm in. You'd likely blunder it all up without me, after all, and as you said, I _am _your partner." Before he could respond, she turned her back to him and said brusquely, "Zip me up, Draco."

Those four simple words stopped his sulk dead in its tracks and his eyes fixated on the tanned stretch of bared skin presented to him. His gaze flickered across the expanse of her back, taking in the lighter streaks and puckers of dark magic scars from their assignments together, habitually assigning each one to one mission or another all while he replayed the simple command in his head. It wasn't the action demanded of him really that even caused him pause, but that last bit: _Draco._

_That_ was a seldom heard thing from her lips.

He must have been examining the impossibly odd occurrence much longer than he thought because Hermione's voice piped up again, this time with less of her forceful tone to it.

"Malfoy?" It came out more a hesitant question than anything, head half turning to peek at him from the corner of one eye.

Draco reached out then, boldly gathering the horrid mess of split ends and frizz that was her hair into his hands and delicately brought it over one of her shoulders, prompting her to turn her gaze forward once more. In another equally bold move, he smoothed a path down the center of her back with the backs of his knuckles, internally screaming with delight at the darling little bumps of gooseflesh left in their wake. He opened his mouth to speak yet found it _inexplicably_ dry and so he forced himself to continue on with the requested task, tugging the tiny zipper slide up along its tracks in a tortuously slow fashion while he attempted to get his tongue to work again.

The awkward silence stretched between them before Draco mustered up the nerve to spit out a more delicately phrased question to represent the seed of hope that had stubbornly taken root ages ago and, more insistently than ever _now_, was blooming in his chest.

"Hermione," he hedged carefully, not missing the way she shifted at the sound of her name, "this…is a lovely dress. Is it new?"

There was a distinct pause—the sort where a person was trying to formulate an answer that wasn't _quite_ a lie.

"No," Hermione said finally and _almost_ without that tiny little quiver in her voice.

Draco swallowed, following the zip up and up and _up_, taking note that this particular branch of fashion apparently left no room for supportive underthings. "I… I just couldn't help but think that I'd never seen you in it before. A-at work—or, you know, not _at work_ but all those dreadful events they always hold. That's why I thought—"

"Not new," she cut in hastily then her shoulders hunched slightly in embarrassment before she straightened again. "I'd just…I've had it for a while now."

The dress was zipped, finally, yet Draco found that his hand lingered on the pull, not entirely ready to let it or the moment go just yet. That delicate seed of hope had grown a stalk and a bud and its teensy little leaves and petals were ready to unfurl at any bloody moment and Draco, mustering the most articulate extension to the conversation he could think of to prolong that oh-so-delicate moment and water that pesky little inkling of hope, said in an octave that was a tad on the high end, "_Oh?"_

Hermione turned, peeked over her shoulder to check on her partner and bit back a laugh at how hard he was burning holes into her back with the most curious sort of stare she'd never thought to see on _his_ face in a thousand years. Her breath rushed out in a shaky exhale and she replaced it with a deep draw of fresh air spliced with courage. "Yes. I'd been, well, I've been saving it, actually. Until now, anyway."

"Saving it," Draco repeated slowly. That stupid little sprig of hope twitched in his chest and he tried, but failed, at a discreet clearing of his throat. Bolstering himself with an internal war cry of _'sod it,' _he watered that hope as though there were no tomorrow. "And which bloke might I have the pleasure of congratulating on earning himself this particular slice of heaven?"

His eyes were on hers now and they were the most enthralling grey Hermione had ever seen. Most days they managed to be either crystalline or like foggy pieces of quartz gleaming at her from across their desks, but at that moment they were twin rainclouds, intensifying with gathering energy on the cusp of a great downpour. They were dark, ardent, and swirling with dozens of shades that she'd never even known existed in that particular palette.

Drawing on that courage she partook of moments before, Hermione flicked her gaze over the achingly beautiful angles of Draco's face and back to his stare and said, "Ask me again, Draco. Later, when we're not working."


End file.
